


You Owe Me an Explanation

by Delouest



Series: Sigh No More - Malika Cadash [8]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Blackwall Spoilers, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Revelations, argument, this romance nearly killed me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 00:44:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3431762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delouest/pseuds/Delouest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blackwall. But that was not his name, was it? Slowly, she pulled away, drawing her arms up to her chest and pushing him off her until he took a step back. He looked hurt but not altogether surprised.</p><p>“You owe me an explanation,” she said, quietly but with force.</p><p>~*~</p><p>Malika Cadash, fueled with the rage of a mistreated lover, confronts Blackwall after "Revelations." But it's hard to look past the fact that she still loves him. Maybe that's why she's hurting so badly.</p><p>Obvious spoilers for the Blackwall romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Owe Me an Explanation

Malika Cadash stood a good distance from the stables. She paced back and forth, her boots leaving a trail of torn grass in her wake. She had been at it a while. Every so often she would stop and look up, eyebrows knitted with frustration.

Horsemaster Dennet watched as the Inquisitor paced. The horse he had been grooming whinnied at Malika; the Mark made most of the animals in the stables agitated. She wasn’t sure if it was the light or the magic. Today, she was certain it was her own unease that upset the beasts, not the Mark.

Too aware of all the eyes on her, she braced herself and walked with purpose to Blackwall who stood at his worktable. Though the stables were open, the shade and partial walls gave her the illusion of privacy.

She made no noise but he still turned as she approached. She expected him to look ashamed, to look away. He didn’t. He brightened upon seeing her, as he always did. The sadness in his eyes softened. For a short moment it was as though nothing had happened. He was her Blackwall. Thom Rainier did not exist and Malika was simply stopping by for some alone time.

Without thinking, she leaned into him, smelling the strong scent of wood chips and seasoned leather. He was not tall for a human. Malika’s head rested in the middle of his chest and his chin settled on top of her, beard tickling her forehead as he wrapped his arms around her. He hummed with satisfaction, and the reverberation ran through her. Despite his obvious strength when fighting, Blackwall was not all muscle like some warriors. He was soft around the middle and she nearly melted into his embrace. He was all contrasts. Strong yet soft. Proper to a fault, yet he told jokes that made even Sera blush. Short and yet he carried himself as though he were the size of a qunari.

It was his beard and height that drew her to him initially. He was more like a dwarf than most of the other surface dwarves she’d worked with in the Carta. She often teased Varric the Blackwall was the dwarf representative of the Inquisition, not him. She had few ties to the dwarven world as well; she’d spent nearly all her life on the surface, going underground only to finish deals, make contracts. They were both anomalies, outsiders. Malika had felt that the whole mess with the Breach was worth it because it meant she’d met Blackwall.

 _Blackwall_. But that was not his name, was it? Slowly, she pulled away, drawing her arms up to her chest and pushing him off her until he took a step back. He looked hurt but not altogether surprised.

“You owe me an explanation,” she said, quietly but with force.

Blackwall took a breath. He had obviously been waiting for the confrontation. He seemed to debate what he was going to say. She was certain he’d turned it over in his head multiple times looking for the best way to explain it to her. but he shook his head, refusing to honeycoat it. “I have none,” he said simply. “Only that I could no longer continue to fool the Inquisition and myself into thinking I was a better man than I was, that I wasn’t the monster I am.”

“ _I’m not Cullen!_ ” Malika nearly shouted. “ _I’m not Leliana or Josephine!_ ”

Blackwall raised a dark eyebrow in confusion.

She shook her head, angry. “I’m not here as a political advisor for the Inquisition asking how you justify what you did before you signed up here so we can look good to our supporters. I’m here as a woman who’s lover left her naked and alone in a barn.” Her cheeks burned with shame at the memory, but she continued. “I don’t care what the Wardens are going to do to you for impersonating one of their own. They can rip out your heart and feed it to the Archdemon for all I care. I don’t need your platitudes about how what you did before was wrong and why you felt you needed to turn yourself in. I came to ask how you could have done what you did to me and how you can stand there and act like it’s not even worthy of a direct apology.”

Her eyes were hot with tears she stubbornly refused to let fall. She was not the type to get emotional, and this feeling of uncertainty was new to her. Internally she chastised her traitorous body, first for allowing herself to have greeted Blackwall with an embrace as she had, and now for betraying her emotions with wet eyes that threatened to spill over.

“It was not right for me to let us continue…” he paused, “whatever it was we were starting, while you had no idea who I was and what I had done.”

“But you didn’t even try to explain it to me.” Malika stomped her foot, startling a stray cat that had wandered into the barn. “I couldn’t care less what you did in the past. I was in the Carta! You think I don’t have a past? I can forgive you for making terrible choices before I knew you. When you joined the Inquisition you were trying to make a fresh start. I understand that more than anyone.” She stopped only to take a breath. Her anger was exhausting, more so than any battles she’d faced with demons or Red Templars. “What I can’t forgive, what I can’t get past, is what you did to me. You knew what you were doing. But you were weak. You pretend to be noble, on a path to redeem yourself, but you can’t do that once you've done what you did to me.”

“What I did-”

“Was take advantage and abandon me. How could you lay with me and turn around and leave, knowing you were going to your death? It was weak and selfish. You got to tell yourself that you were paying for your crimes and feel good about that while you left me behind to mourn your loss without any answers. It was the most cowardly, selfish thing you could have ever done. I can forgive you for what you did when you were young and foolish. But you’re a grown man now. A grown man who was supposed to be paying for those past mistakes. Your actions with me undercut _everything_ you could have possibly done to redeem your name.” Her voice got quiet then, dark. “You didn’t even trust me enough to ask me to help you.”

Blackwall didn’t respond. He couldn’t. There was truth to every harsh word she spat at him and he knew it. He swayed from foot to foot as Malika stood next to him, shaking with anger she didn’t know what to do with. When his silence became too much she shouted, not caring who overheard her. “Well? Fight back! Defend yourself! If you know what you did was so horrible, why did you do it? Why would you love me and choose to leave?”

Still, Blackwall said nothing. She wasn’t sure if she would have cut him off again if he had tried. She made fists and held them at her side. It wasn’t that she wanted to hurt him, she was just ready for a fight and he wasn't giving it to her. He had tried to leave her without ceremony and now here he was, accepting her anger the same way.

It was this inaction that drove her mad. “You are nothing more than a boy,” she said. “A boy who plays pretend as a Warden, plays the part of a reluctant hero, and plays with my emotions. Tell me, did you enjoy your game?”

Finally he spoke. “My lady-”

“No. Don’t you dare,” Malika said, her voice a low growl. “I am not your _anything_ anymore. No part of me is yours.”

Another man might have looked down in shame, but Malika’s face was staring up at him, her defiant eyes narrowed in challenge. He looked at the roof of the barn instead.

“I’m sorry, _Inquisitor_ ,” he said, not meeting her eyes.

“Yes,” she said. “You are a sorry man. And you always will be.”

The Mark on her hand flared a sickly green with her temper. The nearby horses and harts whinnied and nickered nervously as she stomped out. She followed the path she had carved into the ground many times before to visit Blackwall, but this time she had no intention of returning to the coward who lived there now.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So... I may have taken this romance really hard. Blackwall my first romance in Inquisition and I DID NOT SEE ANYTHING COMING (even though in hindsight they did it so well and dropped hints everywhere). I felt like I never got the chance to really yell at Blackwall the way I wanted to. I didn't care about the horrible things he did (okay, maybe a little) but leaving my poor Cadash NAKED AND ALONE IN A BARN and subsequently abandoning her broke my heart. I've been mulling around with what my Inquisitor would say to him if I'd had the chance to confront him. I hope you enjoy!


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